


Floriography

by heroalba



Category: Tokyo Ghoul, Tokyo Ghoul: Re - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Flower Language, M/M, implied past tsukikane, prompt request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 11:31:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3409004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heroalba/pseuds/heroalba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haise can't help but feel like something's off, but he can't quite remember what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Floriography

"Sassan?" 

 Haise blinked awake, lifting his head quickly and meeting Mutsuki’s concerned gaze. The younger boy gave him a shaky smile, fingers picking at his shirt uncomfortably. He smiled back, trying to comfort him even a bit. 

"Sorry, I fell asleep doing work again," he yawned, reaching up to rub his eyes and having to remove his glasses (Arima kept telling him he’d bend the frames if he slept in them, so thankfully they were still okay) to do so. Mutsuki gave him another timid smile.   
  
The investigator sat up a bit straighter, stretching his arms above his head before standing. He was still in the living room, and it looked like Mutsuki was the only one awake… He yawned again and gave the boy another, much more awake smile. 

"Can you go get everyone up? I’ll go ahead and get breakfast ready," he added, and the junior investigator nodded, flitting off down the hall towards Urie’s room. Haise mentally wished him luck (usually Urie was already up, but his surgery had left him lethargic as of late), heading into the kitchen and pulling out what he needed to make the Quinx’s breakfast.   
  
While he worked, bacon sizzling in the pan, his mind wandered to the dream he’d been having. It had been odd, the ghostly presence who usually haunted him strangely absent from the (seemingly) familiar environment.   
Usually, he had to grasp for his memories and separate them into some sort of linear order before he fully understood anything (so far, he knew how old he was). But this… feeling was odd. It felt like he was genuinely missing something so obvious…

His mind’s eye reminded him of the bountiful vegetation in the room, tiny blue-purple blooms and the scent of olive branches cloying the air. Spiraling vines peppered with wisteria and reddish petals adorning the checkered floor…  
He felt like he should have felt something, or that someone was trying to tell him something. It felt like a part of him was crying, perhaps…

_**You’re forgetting something.** _

Haise let out a hiss as grease popped and burned his arm, quickly drawing back out of range of the furiously hot pan. 

"Sassan, you okay?"

He felt red bloom in his cheeks (like those azalea petals from his dream) and nodded, braving the grease’s range once more to push the pan onto a cool burner.

"Yeah, I’m still not awake," he laughed, and he heard Urie scoff somewhere behind him. He scooped the bacon out onto a place and did the same with some (slightly burnt) eggs, setting them out on the counter for the Quinx to get. Shirazu meandered back to the table with two plates (it warmed his heart to know that the blond took his leadership duties seriously even though he and Urie were far from having perfect teamwork) while Mutsuki and Saiko each came to get their own.

He ignored the slight pang of longing (mixed with slight disgust at the smell of human food) of seeing his team eating without him, used to the feeling by now.

"How is it?" he asked, and he received a few quiet, sleepy murmurs of appreciation.

"We don’t have any assignments for the day other than regularly scheduled training, so after we finish that you guys can do whatever," he said, absently scrolling to make sure he hadn’t missed any calls or texts. Juuzou had sent him (multiple) messages, mostly concerning Mutsuki and the training for the auction, and he tapped out a quick reply before turning back to his squad.

Shirazu had, naturally, finished first, with Saiko not far behind. Urie had a strange look on his face and Mutsuki was trying not to look concerned for him and failing.

"You don’t have to finish that Urie," Haise said quickly, mentally kicking himself for forgetting that food wouldn’t taste quite right to his subordinate after the surgery. He had to ask Arima to increase their supplies so that Urie wouldn’t starve…

The purple-haired boy pushed the half-eaten plate away after several long moments, standing and turning on his heel to walk briskly back to his room. Mutsuki and Haise shared a wince when the door slammed.

"S-so ah… How about some training?"

* * *

The special class investigator sighed, leaning back against the bench and letting the sun warm his face. After around an hour of exhausting training (he had to be strict now, he was _so scared_  for Mutsuki he could see the fragile boy lying broken on the ground at Torso’s feet and his stomach turned to ice), he’d sent the squad off to their respective places, Mutsuki with Juuzou and Saiko and Shirazu to wherever they wanted to be. 

He’d headed out of the house (it felt so stuffy and  _wrong_ , which wasn’t unusual but it was  _so bad_  that day) and meandered around. He’d gone to that :Re cafe, hoping maybe to forget his dream, only to be reminded of the tiny clusters of forget-me-nots when he looked into the pretty waitress’s eyes. 

He’d taken his coffee to go.

Haise let out a heavy sigh, picking at his coat uncomfortably. As the day progressed he couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something (so  _important_  and so  _infuriating_ ). He checked his calendar on his phone to check if he was missing any important dates, gritting his teeth when  _something_  sparked in his memory at the number but what was it? There wasn’t anything written there…

He sighed, pocketing his phone again and tilting his head back. Hopefully the feeling would pass (a glimpse of a bouquet in a woman’s arms as she passed by made him want to kick something  _it was so familiar_ ) and he could get on with his day…

He sipped his coffee and winced when the chilled liquid hit his lips, sighing. Arima said he spent too much time in his thoughts, and he was beginning to think he was right…

He ran a hand through his hair then stood, debating on whether or not to chug the remainder of his coffee or toss it (it felt like such a waste, and an insult), deciding on the former and half-regretting the decision (cold coffee was awful unless it was iced). Haise sighed, tossing his cup into the nearest bin before crossing his arms and looking around, desperate for something to distract himself and keep him from going back home.

He spotted a tiny bookshop tucked into the taller buildings and immediately began walking, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep warm.

The shop felt homey and he relaxed, hearing the bell ring after him when he entered. The feeling inside him (so tight and restrictive yet floaty and light like he didn’t belong here) lessened a bit, and he sucked in a deep breath, appreciative of the scent of aging pages.

He called a quick greeting to the clerk behind the counter, not too bothered when a shy echo followed him further into the store. There wasn’t anyone else in, so he didn’t feel awkward about pulling out a random title (it was worn from many hands passing over it, so it must have been a good read) and opening it in the middle of the aisle.

Haise let his eyes drift down the page, a feeling of warm nostalgia settled in his stomach. He didn’t move even when he heard the bell ringing again, a tired (not aged, but almost) voice calling out to the girl behind the counter. The same bashful voice called after him and Haise found himself smiling down at the words he held in his hands, reminded of Mutsuki.

He didn’t hear the footsteps approaching him, and almost jumped when he heard a soft gasp of astonishment. He jerked his head up, meeting eyes made of wisteria petals, and felt his heart beat wildly against his ribs.

”..-kun?”

He blinked, the man’s mouth had moved (he could tell his lips were chapped even from several feet away) but he hadn’t heard. The ghost inside him clawed at his memories as though trying to drag them to the forefront of his mind, but no name came to him despite his feeling like it was dangling off the tip of his tongue.

"I’m sorry?" he finally said, and the spell the man put him under was over, the ghost locked safely into his cage of control (he thought he heard sharp sobs but then dismissed it as him imagining things).

"Do I know you?"

These words, similarly, broke the spell on the man (his hair was messy, unkempt and unwashed) and his wisteria eyes fell self-consciously to the floor.

"… I apologize." His voice was raspy, like he hadn’t used it in a long while. Haise was vaguely reminded of an out-of-tune piano.

"You just looked familiar."

Haise’s fingers curled against the cover of his book as the man moved past him, settling into the nook opposite him and pulling out his own book. The investigator felt eyes burning on him when he turned back to his book and fought to ignore the way it made his stomach fill with anxious butterflies.

The feeling grew to be too much after several moments of losing focus on his book, and he closed it. Just as quickly he felt the man’s gaze leave him and the tight feeling around him loosened (he could _breathe_ ).  
He took the book (it was decent but he needed to be someplace where he could focus on it instead of the straggly but attractive stranger in the bookshop) and made his way to the front counter, trying not to be frustrated when the clerk wasn’t there. 

He decided to wait, unconsciously running his fingers through his hair, and he jumped again when the stranger spoke, just at his side now.

"Pardonne-moi, I couldn’t help but notice you looked harried and I wanted to apologize more formally," the man said (his voice was haunting).

"I-it’s fine," Haise murmured back, his own voice thick (his ghost was back and violently ripping at his heart for some reason-  ** _the man was too close_** ). The stranger shook his head.

"Non, allow me to make it up to you. I noticed the book you were buying and…" He motioned to the books in his arms. "These titles are-ah… Very similar. If you will, allow me to pay for your purchase and buy you these? You look like you enjoy good literature," he said (he looked  _very_  nervous and it looked _very_ out of character).

"Uh-"  
He blinked, eyes darting to the side quickly. “You don’t have to do that-” he insisted, and the stranger shook his head again. His eyes held a sort of feverish glint to them that made Haise’s ghost seethe and settle, pulling him down with it.

"Please, I insist."

"O-okay."

The clerk returned after a moment and Haise begrudgingly let the man add on to his purchase and pay for it himself, his hands clammy when he took the offered bag from him. The clerk smiled sweetly ( _innocently_ ) at them, and the investigator coughed, trying not to be mad at her. 

The whole day was odd, it wasn’t her fault for it.

The man echoed her smile (but it was lonely and sad) and Haise had to look away.   
"Thank you," he said, tight, and the man’s eyes lit up before sinking back into the calmness of permanent reverie.

"No problem-" a name rested on his lips but he hurried through it so quickly that Haise didn’t catch it.

"You reminded me of someone very important to me. I felt like I had to pay one last homage to him."

Haise almost flinched and the stranger’s eyes grew distant. He seemed to drift out of focus for a moment and the investigator waited (fidgeting) for him to finish.

"You know, it must be fate we met today," he finally said and Haise stiffened (though he silently agreed).

Then he smiled and it was more genuine.

"Apologies. Have a good day-"  
"Haise," he rushed, "Sasaki Haise."

Wisteria eyes glimmered with mirth.

"Have a good day, Sasaki-san."

And then he turned and walked away. Despite the discomfort that came with his presence, Haise couldn’t help but note that, as he left, he looked like simultaneously the happiest and loneliest man he’d ever seen.

* * *

When he returned home he found a bookmark in one of the stranger’s books (he should have caught his name so he could return it), clear plastic covering a tiny cluster of flowers (sweet osmanthus) and his heart ached and felt lonely, tears prickling his eyes when he noticed the little letters scratched into the bottom corner.

_Happy Anniversary  
I love you._

**Author's Note:**

> Flowers and meanings:  
> Azaleas - Take care of yourself for me; fragile passion; temperance  
> Forget-me-nots - True love; memories; forget me not  
> Wisteria - I cling to you (i also chose it because it has vines and it's purple lmao)  
> Sweet osmanthus - Enduring charm; the brilliance of memories; true love ; euphoria


End file.
